art. But here I use the term in the narrower sense to mean
pictures of which the subject is connected with Christian or
other worship.]

It is not often that children draw religious scenes. More often
battles and pageants attract them. But since the revival of the
religious picture is so noticeable a factor in the new movement,
since the Byzantines painted almost entirely religious subjects,
and finally, since a book of such drawings by a child of twelve
has recently been published, I prefer to take them as my example.
Daphne Alien's religious drawings have the graceful charm of
childhood, but they are mere childish echoes of conventional
prettiness. Her talent, when mature, will turn to the charming
rather than to the vigorous. There could be no greater contrast
between such drawing and that of--say--Cimabue. Cimabue's
Madonnas are not pretty women, but huge, solemn symbols. Their
heads droop stiffly; their tenderness is universal. In Gauguin's
"Agony in the Garden" the figure of Christ is haggard with pain
and grief. These artists have filled their pictures with a bitter
experience which no child can possibly possess. I repeat,
therefore, that the analogy between Post-Impressionism and child-
art is a false analogy, and that for a trained man or woman to
paint as a child paints is an impossibility. [Footnote: I am well
aware that this statement is at variance with Kandinsky, who has
contributed a long article--"Uber die Formfrage"--to Der Blaue
Reiter, in which he argues the parallel between Post-
Impressionism and child vision, as exemplified in the work of
Henri Rousseau. Certainly Rousseau's vision is childlike. He has
had no artistic training and pretends to none. But I consider
that his art suffers so greatly from his lack of training, that